Harry Potter and the Curse of Fan Fiction
by bitofasavingpeoplething
Summary: Harry and Hermione are confused by all of the random people that they suddenly feel connected to. Parody on fan fiction in general, but written only with love, respect, and fondness! Please R&R! Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and would never claim to be.


Harry was in the middle of deciding between a bacon club and a turkey reuben when Hermione, who was sitting across from him, suddenly dropped her menu and covered her face with her hands.

"Oh, Harry!" she wailed. "I j-j-just don't know what to do anymore!"

Harry goggled at her. Never before had he seen his best friend in such histrionics. He glanced at the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron, hoping that Ron would pass through any second with an idea of how to comfort his now sobbing wife. The three had been supposed to meet for lunch at the popular Diagon Alley pub but Ron had gotten caught up helping George do inventory before the afternoon rush that was sure to come that day.

"Er…Hermione…are…are you alright? Is everything okay with Ron, and y'know, the kids and everything?"

Privately, Harry hoped desperately that she would say yes. In addition to the emotional horror that would surely accompany whatever tragedy had befallen the Weasley-Grangers, he had no idea how he would explain a shocking turn of events to his children. He cursed himself for this selfish thought.

"N-n-no, it's not that. Th-that's fine, for the most part anyway."

Harry took a celebratory swig of his butterbeer, relieved that the letter he had already started composing in his head would never have to be sent to his kids at Hogwarts.

Hermione took a deep breath.

"It's just that I've been having these strange….thoughts lately." she began. "Thoughts about…Malfoy."

Harry spit out his butterbeer, a look of shock spreading over his face. Whatever he had been expecting, it definitely wasn't this.

Hermione started crying again.

"Oh, Harry! I just had to tell someone and I thought you'd understand. You know, because of all of the strange thoughts you had when V-Voldemort could infiltrate your mind."

"No, Hermione," he said, reaching for her hand. "I do understand." _More than you know_, he thought privately.

Hermione looked up at him. "R-really?" she asked.

"Really," he said firmly. "Now, tell me about those thoughts."

"It's so strange," she said. "It's like they're memories. Of Draco and I…oh-my-goodness-this-is-just-so-strange…being in love!"

She said this in such a rapid whisper that Harry only just understood her.

She went on.

"I'll be walking by Gringotts and I'll suddenly remember seeing Draco there once and flirting with him. Or I'll pass by a café and think 'Oh, that's where Draco and I shared a cappuccino and discussed our deepest secrets and inner turmoil.' But, Harry, you know that I haven't exchanged more than a hello with him since we were at Hogwarts!"

"I know," said Harry quietly. He now realized that he had to tell her something, too, but he didn't know how.

Hermione continued as if she hadn't even heard Harry; she was turning purple in the face and starting to look quite mad now.

"It's just so strange! I can't understand it! Me, a married mother of two! With a successful career in the Ministry of Magic and my face on a bloody Chocolate Frog card! And I'm suddenly imagining an entire life with a man who I arbitrarily disliked back in grade school, and have no desire or reason to make contact with again!"

She shuddered.

"And that's not all! I've unexpectedly had urges to wander around Muggle London, nurturing wild hopes that I might run into him in a crowded Muggle bookshop or grocery store! As if Malfoy would ever set foot in any of those places; as if he and I could ever even be friends; as if he and I would ever, in a million years be _more_ than friends…"

Now, she just looked defeated.

"I just don't know, Harry. I'm thinking of making an appointment at St. Mungo's. It must be…early menopause or something like that!"

"It couldn't be," Harry finally spoke up. "Because…because…well…because I've been having it too!"

He felt his face turn red.

"You?" Hermione was shocked. "But certainly…not in the same way as I am?!"

Harry nodded, embarrassed, and felt the red turn into a deep maroon. He swiftly explained himself.

"Not that I want…anything like that! I mean, everyone knows that I love Ginny! I mean really, if I did…have feelings for Draco…wouldn't some shred of that have been present during my adolescence!? I mean, feelings that intense definitely would have come across in a seven-year-long third person narrative!"

"Of course," Hermione nodded vehemently. "And obviously I love Ron, I mean; all of those years of foreshadowing weren't for nothing!"

"When did this start happening to you?" asked Harry.

"Well, soon after the war ended, I guess. But it was so minor, just trickles of thoughts really. The thoughts kept increasing but- I-I just dismissed it as post-traumatic stress…and then it was pre-wedding jitters…and then post-partum depression! I've run out of excuses now, Harry, and it's the worst it's ever been!"

She looked for a moment as if she was about to break down again. Harry lowered his voice to what he hoped was a calming tone.

"It's okay, Hermione, we'll get to the bottom of this. It just so happens that after the war was right when this started to happen to me, too. And you know, it's not just Malfoy, it's all kinds of people! Tonks, Luna, even-"

He suddenly remembered who he was talking to and stopped just in time, covering it up with a coughing spasm. If he hadn't looked back at Hermione at that precise moment, he might have lost one of his best friends. Two, actually.

"Same for me. Just, for some reason, Malfoy has been the most prevalent delusion," she responded. "Harry, you don't think…Voldemort?!"

"What, Voldemort bewitched us so that we would fall in love with the right people while he was alive and then cursed us so that when he died we would feel some kind of love connection with his blonde-haired prat of a whipping boy?" Harry snorted. "No Hermione, I don't think so."

"Of course," Hermione said, looking quite embarrassed. "I just don't know what to think! It's almost as if until the war, our lives were in the hands of one person, and now they are being torn in every which way by millions! Before, when I didn't know that it was afflicting you as well, I thought that it had something to do with Rose."

"Rose?" Harry was bewildered.

"Well, Ron and I hadn't gotten around to telling you and Ginny yet, but she came home at Christmas and announced to us that she had begun dating little Scorpius, you know, Malfoy's son!"

Harry was aghast. Not only was Rose just thirteen, but she had so far shown much more interest in books than dating. He had never even heard her mention Scorpius. From what he had heard from Albus, Malfoy Jr. was part of a very stereotypically Slytherin crowd. Hermione continued.

"And the way she said it...it was almost like she was trying to please us with this announcement! And Harry, you know that I'm very open minded, so I asked her about Scorpius' interests, and how they met, and why she fancies him…"

"And?" Interjected Harry.

"And she couldn't answer a single question! Eventually she broke down crying and said that both she and Scorpius thought it was what everyone wanted! And when I asked her who 'everyone' was, she said that she didn't know. You know, I think that when we dropped her off at the Hogwarts Express her first year was when these strange things started happening in full force! Nothing has been the same since then!"

"I know what you mean," said Harry darkly. "When I dropped Lily off this year, she asked me if she really had to be in Slytherin. I thought it was just childish sorting fears but then she confided in me that even if the hat tried to place her in Gryffindor she was going to ask to be put in Slytherin. She thought that people expected that of her, for some reason. Finally I assured her that that wasn't the case and, as you know, she was sorted into Gryffindor where she rightly belongs! I mean, come on, Hermione, you know that Lily's not cunning or sly or any of that Slytherin garbage! Why on earth would she think that she intrinsically belonged there?"

"I don't know Harry…I just don't know," Hermione shook her head again. "Oh look, here comes Ron. Listen, Harry, let's not talk about this with him just yet. I don't know how to begin to explain it. Especially all of the stuff about…Draco." She shuddered once more.

Harry looked up to see Ron snaking his way throughout the crowded pub to their small booth. He slid in beside his wife and took a generous slug of the butterbeer that she and Harry had ordered for him. Without even so much of a greeting, Ron suddenly burst into speech.

"Guys, this is really random question, but…has anyone thought about Snape lately?"


End file.
